


Velma Dinkley's Dirty Secret

by TheMidnightTalebearer



Series: The Dirty Secret Series [1]
Category: Scooby Doo Where Are You! (Cartoon)
Genre: BDSM, Blackmail, F/F, F/M, Nipple Torture, Rough Sex, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMidnightTalebearer/pseuds/TheMidnightTalebearer
Summary: Velma's been hiding something about herself for years, but thanks to her neighbor, it's about to catch up with her.
Relationships: Daphne Blake/Fred Jones, Velma Dinkley/Original Character(s)
Series: The Dirty Secret Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908271
Kudos: 14





	1. The Connerly Manor Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three days of hard sleuthing, Velma and her team uncover the truth behind the mysterious fires at the Connerly estate. Velma is exhausted and just wants to rest, but her BDSM and trans girl-loving cunt has other ideas.

The following ridiculousness contains nipple piercing, oral and anal sex, toys, shemales, blackmail, voyeurism, fingering, lots of BDSM, and a grown woman who talks to her pussy. Enjoy.   
  
"Jinkies," Velma groaned wearily, fairly falling into her apartment. Her slightly stocky legs were riddled with pain, and her feet were on fire inside her black Mary Janes. Her usually bright, black, eyes stung horribly behind her square glasses. Nothing in all her years of unmasking crooks had ever worn her out like this.  
  
She had just returned from Widow's Peak, home of the stately Connerly Manor. Its occupants had died two years apart, of natural causes, but now, mysterious fires were appearing throughout the property. There had also been sightings of an eerie, white, figure. The Connerly estate had summoned Mysteries Inc. at once. About six months ago, Velma had published a collection of short stories chronicling the gang's first thirty mysteries. It had sold fairly well, and earned them regional fame. It had also gotten them a bunch of higher profile jobs like this one.  
  
The moment she'd set foot on the premises, Velma had known the fires were chemical in nature. Her well-trained nose detected notes of glycerin, but she couldn't find the source or any residue, search as she might. So she'd enlisted the help of Shaggy and Scooby. One had a ton of energy, and the other a stellar nose. To get them to go anywhere near the manor, she'd had to bribe the pair of them with four Scooby Snacks each. Still, the moment they were inside, Scooby had the scent in mere moments. Within ten minutes, Shaggy was calling her over to investigate a secret passageway.  
  
A mummy had attacked the moment Velma stepped inside, but she'd had the presence of mind to kick it in the crotch. It had leapt back in pain and was immediately trampled by Shaggy and Scooby as they made a hasty escape. Velma had quickly followed suit, and listening carefully for Daphne's voice, Scooby led the way. In a few moments, they'd arrived at a small room in the servants quarters. Upon entering it, Velma had sworn under her breath.  
  
"Aww, that's a good little slutboy," Daphne was cooing sweetly. "Take my dick up your ass like a good little bitch. You wanna be Daphne's good little bitch don't you, sweetheart?" The slim, long-legged, redhead, was naked except for the rather large strapon she was shoving up Fred's shithole.  
  
"Oh yes, mommy, yes!" Fred had grunted in reply, humping his ass back on the invader. "Pound my fucking ass! Make me a good, little, slut for you!"  
  
"That's my darling, little, bitch," Daphne had moaned, petting his head affectionately as she showed no such tenderness for his asshole.  
  
"Er...mommy?" Velma had sniped, exasperated, "if I could borrow your darling, little, bitch for a moment, I've discovered the identity of the person lighting the fires. Her name's Nurse Madeline Carver. She worked for the family here for decades. But they barely paid her a thing, and she got nothing in Jesus, Daphne! I'm talking to you! Stop fucking him this instant! She got nothing in either will," she'd continued after Daphne reluctantly complied. "So she...oh, Shaggy, dear, please!" she'd sighed deeply, trying to master her frustration.  
  
"I'm sorry, Velma," he'd answered her sheepishly, fumbling to tuck his hardon back into his pants. "It's just..well...Daphne..."  
  
"I know," she'd said, nodding. "Her double D's are lovely, but this isn't the time! Nurse Carver's been using the fires and a mummy get up to scare our employers away while she smuggles out everything of value..."  
  
"And you want me to set a trap for the bitch," Fred stated, clearly nettled at being robbed of his fun.  
  
"I'd really appreciate it, yes," came Velma's answer. With a sigh, Fred had sent Shaggy running for some boards.  
  
Minutes later, the gang had stood proudly before a wall of cameras, Velma triumphantly holding Madeline's mask above her head.  
  
"Miss Dinkley!" an eager reporter had called out, "will this adventure feature in your next collection?"  
  
"Yes, miss," she'd answered with quiet politeness. "this result took three long days of very difficult sleuthing. But working together, we..."  
  
"Fuck that four-eyed whore! I'd have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those meddling kids!" This diatribe had come from Madeline herself as she was forced into handcuffs. "You better pray you never end up in my prison, bitch! I promise you they'll never fucking find your ouughff..." She'd been cut off by a cop who'd stuffed her in a squad car.  
  
"Boy has she got a temper!" Daphne had quipped to general laughter. And after several more photographs, they'd gone back to the Mystery Machine. Fred had taken the wheel at once and begun dropping everyone off. Velma had dozed off three separate times by the time Fred got her home. Now she was just willing her body to get her to her bedroom before she collapsed on the living room floor. She patted her chin-length, auburn, hair as a sort of encouragement, but it barely seemed to work.  
  
At last, Velma's muscles agreed to heed her one more time, and she shuffled toward her room like a zombie. The young detective got about halfway to her goal before her eyes fell on the dining table and her laptop. Immediately, she felt a jolt of pleasure in her pussy.  
  
"No, dear. I can't," she breathed wearily, patting her a-line skirt just beneath her slightly chubby stomach. "I said no," she repeated, trying to sound firmer. "What's not fair?" she asked quietly. "Oh, I know, dear, and I'm sorry. I really am. But with the mystery and all I haven't had time to play with you. Yes, sweetheart, I'm aware you can't play with yourself, but please! I know it's my fault, but I can hardly stand! First thing in the morning. I promise. Just please....no no no! Don't you dare remind me of...oh God!"  
  
An electric wave of pleasure shot straight through her frame as she saw Daphne stroking her huge strapon in her mind. She began to pant heavily, willing the images to stop, but her cunt was betraying her with all its might. She saw the scene from earlier that had annoyed her so much. The one of Fred fucking when he should have been on the clock like she was. But this time, Fred was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Instead, Velma was on all fours with her skirt tucked in her waist. Her orange panties had been pulled down around her sock covered ankles. Her turtleneck and bra were currently scrunched around her neck, and the 34D tits they usually hid so well were bound with several very thick rubber bands. A huge alligator clip bit into each of her nipples, and a butt plug had been shoved in her mouth and strapped in place. She wore Scooby Doo's dog collar and Daphne was viciously yanking the leash as she jammed a solid foot of rubber balls deep into Velma's tight ass.  
  
"Dear God..." Velma shuddered as she watched the image playing in her mind. Raw lust was coursing from the tips of her toes to each and every one of the freckles on her face. She fell to her knees, stuck her hand through the waistband of her skirt, and forcefully pushed it into her panties. She started yanking her cunt hairs as hard as she could and viciously pinching her clit until her eyes watered. "Oh, fuck me..." she moaned softly, slapping herself hard with he free hand. "Oh, God, hurt me...that's it. Shred my fucking little ass." In her mind, Daphne was doing exactly that, and Velma decided her friend needed a flogger. Next moment, she was watching herself howl at the top of her lungs under the pain of the strapon and the whip. "Take it, you filthy little know it all bitch," she snarled. "Oh fuck. Show me what I'm good for! Make me a whore!" And with a wicked little smile, she adjusted her fantasy again, replacing Daphne's strapon with a monster of a turgid cock.  
  
"Make me your whore, you shemale bitch!" she groaned. "Shoot up my fucking...ohhhhGoddd....." She squealed like a pig as the orgasm tore through her. "Jesus! I wanna be a brainless fucking slut! Fuck! That's what girls are for! Oh god, yes! Pound every fucking slut on the planet into....my God! What am I saying?" she screamed. In utter horror, she clamped her hand over her mouth and prayed desperately that no one had heard her.  
  
"You filthy, little, traitor!" she cried, slapping her cunt forcefully. "I can't...I can never say anything like that again...Huh? Well, yes. Of course it's just a fantasy, but it isn't one I should stop that, you dirty bitch! Now you listen to me! You've had your fun, and now I really need to get to bed. Huh? What if I do what? Oh, don't be ridiculous. I never talk in my sleep. Ever. Sure I could end up dreaming about...oh fuck, you little minx..."  
  
A tall, muscular, Brazillian, shemale with E cup tits and an ass to match suddenly popped into Velma's head, stroking a cock about as thick as an arm.  
  
"Oh please choke me with it," she pleaded at once, sitting on her knees. She looked for all the world like a puppy begging for a treat. "Please, miss. Choke this stupid, useless, whore. It's the only thing that I should ever do with my...fuck! Alright, fine! One hour. One fucking hour. Just so I can get this nonsense out of my system. But you have to swear you'll leave me the fuck alone after that. Swear it, Penny! That's a good girl," she sighed.  
  
All tiredness forgotten, she snatched up her laptop and struggled to make peace with what she was about to do to herself. She sprinted to her room and returned with a huge dildo. She was just about to give it a lick when she heard a firm knocking on her door. Arranging herself as best she could, given the circumstances, she marched to the peephole to see who would be bothering her at this late hour. What she saw nearly made her heart stop in mid beat. It was a smartphone proudly displaying a silent version of her exploits thus far.  
  
  



	2. The Age of Emma Townsend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velma's neighbor blackmails and dominates the famous detective with whips, needles, dildos, and her massive cock. Will Velma ever manage to escape and take her life back?

"How..." Velma gasped, blanching horribly. Her hands shook so badly it took her a full minute to open the door. When she did, her eyes fixated on the smartphone she'd seen through the peephole. She watched herself masturbating as her lips moved silently.  
  
"Should I turn up the sound?" a firm voice asked almost sweetly. At the sound of it, Velma started so hard she nearly leapt out of her shoes. With a little laugh, the stranger shut her door, turned off the smartphone, and slipped it in the side pocket of her white jeans.  
  
The stranger was a very tall, toned, black woman with piercing, brown, eyes, and neat braids that stopped just below her ears. She wore gold studs in those ears, a wily smile on her beautiful face, and a short-sleeved, black, polo, that left her midriff exposed. She looked clever and confident standing beside Velma, who was usually bright-eyed and brimming with agency. Now the detective resembled nothing more than an autumn leaf being bandied about by a stiff wind.  
  
"W..who are you?" Velma croaked out at last. "Who are you, and what do you want? How did you get that video of me?"  
  
"That's a good detective," the stranger simped teasingly. "Always asking questions. Let's start with how I got the video. Webcams," she laughed. "I've stuck them all over your apartment."  
  
"That's impossible," Velma asserted with something like her usual crime fighting spirit. "If someone had been in this apartment other than me, I'd have seen the signs."  
  
"Yes, you would have," the stranger replied mirthfully, "if you hadn't told me exactly what those signs were. The downside of writing a book is that anybody can read it, silly."  
  
With a spreading horror, Velma realized her visitor was right. When Velma Dinkley did something, she did it all the way. Her account of Mystery Inc.'s first thirty cases was exhaustive, going over how she'd reached her conclusions in intricate detail.  
  
"So you used my own book against me. Is that it?" Velma asked sourly.  
  
"Yup. Thanks to you, I've been recording your every move for months. Including the time you smeared your dildo with strawberry jam. 'Choke me...'" the stranger teased, doing an eerily accurate impression of Velma. "'Oh, God, Daphne, choke me with your fucking huge girl cock!' Someone really ought to tell Daphne that you wish she was a she..."  
  
"What do you want?" Velma cut in anxiously, feeling the color rush to her face.  
  
"Well, my name is Emma Townsend, but you're going to call me Mistress from now on because I want you, Ms. Dinkley. I want you to be my little whore. See, I've been obsessed with you for ages. Maybe it's those adorable freckles of yours. Maybe it's those tits you hide so well. Or maybe it's just that you're clever enough to recognize thirty different tire tracks purely from memory. In any case, I want you."  
  
"Well, you can't have me!" Velma answered, struggling to sound brave. "Now get out of my apartment this instant. I'm going to sniff out your cameras first thing in the morning, and then I'm going to call the police."  
  
"And they'll take me to jail as soon as I confess to everything, which will prevent me from stopping the automatic program on my computers, Velma. Would you mind telling me how you plan to cope when every news agency on Earth has footage of you talking to your pussy?"  
  
Velma nearly fainted when that image filled her mind. Her closest friends would think she was losing her marbles. She couldn't remember when she'd named her twat Penny and given it a voice, but she remembered why: she had always had an overactive imagination. The moment she'd decided to be a detective, she'd modeled herself after Sherlock Holmes. In his stories, Holmes famously gave up everything, including love, so that he would never have any distractions from his work. Velma had done the same, which had left her alone most of the time, and often quite horny. She'd ignored the problem at first, simply increasing her workload in line with her hero's philosophy. Then one day, her cunt had spoken up for itself, and it didn't quiet down until Velma had stuffed it with something.  
  
"So, Velma," Emma smiled, seeing the fear in her eyes, "I don't have all night, so I'll give you a choice. You were about to use a big, black, dildo, on yourself before I rang the door. I want you to crawl to it on all fours, and bring it to me in your mouth. And whenever you speak to me, I want you to call me Mistress. Either that or the world watches you jill off to shemale porn."  
  
"I'll get it, Mistress," Velma replied, falling to her knees. Her blood was boiling, but she couldn't think of anything else. She'd done so many things it was absolutely imperative no one saw. Until she could divorce Emma from her videos, she was going to have to play ball.  
  
A moment later, Velma returned with hatred in her eyes and the dildo in her mouth. Emma petted her like a puppy, took the dildo, and hurled it away.  
  
"I've got one of my own," she grunted, unzipping her jeans. Emma fished around for a moment and pulled out a semi-erect cock, the biggest one Velma had seen outside of a porno. Her pussy squealed at once. She hadn't known her new mistress was a shemale.  
  
"Yes, Penny, I see it," Velma muttered, "but this isn't the...Penny, listen to me..."  
  
"No! Penny belongs to me now, slut! Open your mouth wide. Open your mouth and take this cock!  
  
The second Velma complied, Penny betrayed her once again. Shocks of pleasure ran through the young detective as Emma's massive tool plunged into her mouth. Velma struggled to fight it with all of her might, but in a moment, she was sucking of her own accord. She forced as much of Emma's shaft down her throat as she could manage, struggling with all she had in her to reach the girl's balls and never making it. Thick ropes of spit drooled out of her mouth, dripping lewdly from the shemale's ever-hardening fuckmeat. Suddenly, Emma grabbed Velma's head and began brutally slamming it into her crotch.  
  
"Get my fucking boner down your throat, you little bitch! You've been begging for some girl cock, and now you're gonna get it. Come on, open that throat, slut! Take it! I know you can do it. I've watched you ramming fucking cucumbers and dildoes down that hole! Oh yes, gag on this monster! Gag, you little shit! Let all that motherfucking spit drool out of your head. Bet you wish Daphne could see this, don't you, you fucking little slut? You'd like that, wouldn't you? She could take you up the fucking ass! Fuck! Milk that cock, slut! Milk that cock! Make her do it, Penny! put the fucking spurs to the bitch! Oh fuck! That's a good idea," she laughed, yanking her dick free from Velma's mouth.  
  
"No! Please, Mistress!" Velma cried out at once. Her nipples were stiff as pebbles, and her pussy was slobbering all over her panties. Penny, you fucking traitor, she thought to herself. "Please don't stop, Mistress. Your little slut needs to be choked. Please ram it down my throat, Mistress. Please feed me that shemale cock. I'll be a good little whore for you. I swear."  
  
"Will you now?" Emma laughed, producing a sewing needle from her purse. When she saw it, Velma's rational mind returned at once. She began to back away slowly, but Emma caught her by the arm. "No running away now, or Daphne will see you begging for my cock!"  
  
Velma allowed herself to be halted, but she kept both eyes on the needle. The young detective had hurt herself many times before, with floggers, clothespins, rubber bands, paddles, and the occasional dry dildo. But she'd never had the courage to use a needle before, and she was certain her new mistress wasn't planning to ease her into it.  
  
"Take off your turtleneck for me," Emma said with a leer, and Velma gave a little squeal of fright.  
  
"Not there, Mistress! Please not there! Couldn't you prick my thighs. Or maybe my ass?"  
  
"Take it off, Velma. Your bra, too. I'm going to hurt those tits, and you're going to love every minute of it. Or, I could always hurt Penny instead."  
  
"Why not?"Velma asked Penny. "Why shouldn't I let her? Maybe then you'll behave yourself, and stop getting me into these...oh, right. I'm attached to you, and that would hurt way worse. Lucky little bitch!" So saying, Velma stripped until she was topless.  
  
The pair marched to Velma's bedroom, and Emma placed her victim on her back before taking careful aim at Velma's left nipple. Velma clamped her hand over her mouth, she had neighbors, after all, and prepared to scream her lungs out once the needle made contact. A second later, a sharp pain shot through her chest as the needle neatly pierced her nipple. She let out a loud cry, followed by a plaintive moan, and tears welled up in her eyes. But, like anything painful, it had excited her pussy, and she could feel it bubbling beneath her skirt. She looked up at Emma for permission, and when the shemale nodded, Velma pulled up her skirt, pushed her panties down around her thighs, and began fervently rubbing her cunt.  
  
Pain and pleasure roiled together, and it wasn't long before Velma was twisting her abused nipple. Emma pumped her meat while Velma pinched her clit and took her unsullied nipple between her teeth. The young detective began groaning as her lust started to build, and with sudden ferocity, she began to give Penny a spanking. All the time, Emma leered on, wearing a lewd smile, and manhandling her now leaking cock.  
  
"Oh fuck! Hurt me, Mistress!" Velma suddenly cried out. "Oh please hurt me with that fucking cock! Oh, god I.."  
  
Velma was roughly shoved on her stomach before she could say another word. Quickly shedding her jeans, Emma spat a generous amount of saliva in her hands, lubed her cock, and took a pair of latex gloves from her purse. Putting these on, she rammed her cock into Velma, eliciting a very loud squeal. Then she pulled out the stinging nettles. The next ten minutes were a real workout for Velma.  
  
The nettles made her cry out at once whenever Emma smacked them across her ass. Welts popped up all over her cheeks immediately. At the same time, Emma's massive shemale cock was stretching the young detective's asshole to its very limits. The assault was brutal, but Velma screamed with perverted pleasure, begging to be used and abused still harder. She was ramming her ass back on the turgid cock that stuffed it, and whenever she could manage it, she mauled her nipples. For ten solid minutes, Velma's rectum was forcefully savaged until Emma grunted loudly and began to shout.  
  
"Goddamn, take it, you fucking cum dump! Take my fucking load!" At that, she pulled out of Velma's abused asshole, and rammed her cock in her sopping pussy. Velma screamed her approval as Emma slammed her dick up her dripping hole. All at once, the shemale began to cum, shooting spurt after spurt deep into Velma's womb. Even as she came, she continued pounding Velma's hole, until a massive orgasm finally crashed over her. When they were both finally spent, they collapsed beside each other, Emma's softening cock dripping on her thighs, and Velma's aches beginning to dull. They fell asleep that way: side by side, basking in the afterglow of a proper fucking.  
  
Emma awoke the next morning to find, to her horror, that both Velma and her smartphone were gone. In a panic, she dove out of the bedroom as she was, and ran straight into the waiting arms of two female police officers. They told her that Velma had contacted them two hours ago, explained the circumstances, and offered the smartphone as proof. They had since removed the cameras, raided Emma's house, shut down all four of her computers, and wiped the drives. Thanks to her own cameras, they also had a full confession. The police had promised Velma that would also be deleted as soon as they no longer needed it. Emma was allowed to put some clothes on before the police carted her off to jail.  
  
Velma never found out whether the police kept their word, but neither her friends, nor the world ever learned her secrets. The detective went on to solve many more mysteries, but the accounts she wrote of them became less detailed that her first efforts. These days, she wasn't above slipping in a bit of misinformation as a security measure against accidentally creating smarter crooks. Emma tried to pen her own tome while in prison, but a gag order put a stop to that right away.  
  
Though Velma allowed herself to be more social after her ordeal, she still spent many a night with Penny and her laptop. She carefully searched for cameras first, but after that, her hands flew up her pussy. But no one ever became the wiser, and every morning, life went on Neither Emma Townsend nor any one else was ever able to reveal Velma Dinkley's dirty secret.


End file.
